


Losing All Control

by That_One_Fan_Girl



Series: Control [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Blood and Injury, Car Sex, Child Abuse, First date (kinda), Getting Together, Hate Sex, Human Zim (Invader Zim), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Piercings, Underage Drug Use, Zim is Bad at Feelings (Invader Zim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Fan_Girl/pseuds/That_One_Fan_Girl
Summary: He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself. He’s forcing himself.“Zim, we don't have to do this, ” he says calmly. He just wants to comfort Zim.”Yes we do, ” he bites out. ”I won't be thrown away again, ”
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Control [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672213
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	Losing All Control

It's getting closer to summer and classes are picking up. Dib’s tried so long to get Zim to show him his house. He got his way

Dib watches Zim tap his finger on the table. Dib scribbles down notes on his notepad. Zim looks uncomfortable, which is odd because this is _his_ house. Zim should be comfortable in his own home. 

The home looks... _better_ then Dib expected. Sure the kitchen could have been scrubbed more and there as a few stains here and there around the walls and couch. 

The kitchen is one of those old kitchens, mix and match appliances, some new, some old. The colour scheme dark blacks and grey, and kinda sad in all. The dinner table is big and long, ten chairs to the table. Dib has seen family photos. His parents have seven children. And out of all of them, he can pinpoint that Zim is somewhere in the middle of all the kids.

Zim keeps looking at the time; finger tapping faster against the wood table. ”I want to get ice cream, ” he says suddenly, looking up at Dib with big, blue puppy eyes. 

Dib smiles, a little nervous. ”We’ve only been working for 40 minutes, ” he says. ”It’s not even past dinner time yet, ” he says.

”Then let's go out and eat. Like now. I'll pay, ” he says. He moves to go grab his money but stopped by Dib’s laugh. 

Dib smiles, skeptical. He takes a drink of water as a thought comes to mind. He places down the glass, smiling at the thought. ”Why don't we get some once the hour is up?” he asks. ”It’s on me, okay?”

Zim looks at the time, the tapping of his finger slowing. He looks up at Dib with hopeful eyes. He nods. ”Ok, ” he says softly, cheeks slightly pink. He goes back to scribbling down answers into his notebook, a light blush still on his cheeks. 

Dib smiled fondly, proud that they are making progress. He watches Zim jot down his notes with a fuelled determination to leave. His black hair falling into his eyes, a focused frown on his face. 

_Maybe we're getting closer,_ Dib thinks to himself. 

He goes back to writing, looking at his textbook and coming up with an answer before moving on to the next question. This continues on for another 15 minutes in rather comfortable silence before the door opens.

Dib notices Zim tense up, frozen as the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor. A woman walks into the kitchen, which makes Dib cringe at her appearance. She has long, curly black hair, face caked in makeup and smoking a cigarette. She jas pasty white skin and dark blue eyes. She has cheap hooped earrings and in a red skin-tight dress and heels. She has dark circles under her eyes and marks on her arms. Needle marks. 

“Zimmy, oh my baby boy,” she coos, walking over to her son. Dib cringes, watching on as Zim is uncomfortably sitting there frozen as his mother comes up from behind and hugs Zim. 

“Hi ma,” he murmurs. 

She places her blood-red lips against Zim’s cheek. The smudge is bright red his pasty flesh. She looks at Dib with a wide smile, and there Dib sees how much he looks like his mother. 

Snow-white skin and blue eyes and black hair. Fuck he could be Snow White with how beautiful he is. And his mom looks likes the chain smoker Snow White that got into her parent's pot ad never stopped, in fact, pushing it further. 

It's scary to think that this might be Zim’s future. Old and wrecked from drugs and alcohol. Zim was so smart, there was no way he would let himself fall like his mother? Would he? He's already drinking and smoking, though Dib is working on that. 

Right there and then, Dib swore to himself that he’d help make Zim better. Even if he has to do it with Zim kicking and screaming. 

”Who’s ya lil friend?” she asks, eyes levelling out his body. It makes Dib shiver. It's like she's undressing him with her eyes. 

Dib looks Zim in the eye, also waiting for an answer. He wants to know how close they've been getting. 

His cheeks pink again, and he looks away from Dib as he murmurs, ”my partner for our science test.” He refuses to meet Dib’s gaze, cheeks hot and lips dipped in a tight frown. 

Dib’s heart pounds and his throat tightens like he can't breathe—its all sorry and got like he's been dumped in the desert and left to die. 

”Well, thank you for dealing with such a trouble maker like my Zimmy, ” he says, playfully shaking Zim’s shoulders and kissing his cheek. 

”Ma, ” Zim protests, swatting his mother away. 

She pulls away, giggling. She seems like a nice woman. A nice woman that feel into the wrong line and can't or won't get out. 

She pulls out a few stacks of cash, some much that it looked like she robbed a bank. She pulls out a few twenties and hands them to Zim, ”here sweetie, don’t tell daddy, ” she winks. 

”Thanks ma.” Zim takes them. He folds them and pops open his phone case, shoving them in and then placing his phone in his pocket.

She hands Dib a twenty, which makes him confused. ”Oh, oh no ma’am, I'm fine, thank you, ” he protests.

She merely smiles, taking his wrist and placing the money in hand. ”Keep it, sweetie. Anything for Zimmy’s friend.” 

”Don't take it. It's blood money, ” Zim says with a scowl. Dib wants to laughs, which makes Zim scowl more, more annoyed. ”You take that money, you're dead to me.”

Dib takes it with a smug smile, watching Zim’s face. 

”You're dead to me, Dibshit, ” he says flatly. He covers his mouth, looking up at his mom in fear. 

Dib would he laughed if it wasn't for the fear on Zim’s face. It's completely pale and eyes wide. Dib looks at Zim’s mother’s smile fade into a cruel scowl. 

”What did tell you, ” she growls. Her words are like guck pouring out of her mouth.

She grabs Zim’s arm, tanking in up off the chair. The chair slamming down. Zim stumbles along, being pulled to a kitchen cabinet. 

”Ma, please, not now, ” he begs softly. ”please, I'm sorry, just not in front of my friend, please—” she slaps his cheek. Dib watches in horror. Zim sounds so hopeless and about to cry. 

The woman pulls out a wooden spoon, sneering at her son. ”What? So you can forget about this? I raised you better than this, and maybe a little shame will stop you from running your filthy mouth around others.”

She holds Zim’s palm out to her. Before Dib knows it, she smacks the wooden spoon against his palm. Zim hisses, biting down on lips. She does it again, and again and again, until Zim is weathering, hand raw and red. 

”Now, finish your homework. We’ll talk about this later, ” she says. “I’ll be calling your father about this.” She kisses his forehead, going on as if she didn't just beat her son’s hands with a wooden spoon. 

Zim sits down, hand shaking as he tries to write. Dib reaches forward, grabbing Zim’s wrist, ” we need to get ice on that, ” he says.

”It’s fine,” Zim says quietly. He tries to write, hand shaking and hiding his hisses behind biting his lower lip and breathing heavily. 

”Hey, let's get some food now, ” Dib whispers, making direct eye contact with Dib. 

Zim nods slowly, eyes wide. “Yeah, yeah okay,” he whispers. As he’s pulling away, Zim snatched his hand, He looks at him with pleading eyes. “Can I stay at your place for a while?” he asks.

Dib didn’t think before nodding. 

They get up to leave, quickly packing their bags. Zim goes upstairs for a moment to put his things away. 

Dib is already waiting at the door, shoes and jacket on. He slings his bag over his shoulder, fingerings picking at the strap. He’s ready to go. All he needs is Zim. His foot tapes with impatience. If that’s why his mom doesn’t, what does fear old dad do you, Zim? He didn’t want to find out. 

Luckily, he brought his car. They can leave quickly. 

Dib turns his head to the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs and his heart feels lighter. 

Zim comes downstairs with a bigger backpack, which he could only guess was packed with everything he’ll need for school and some clothes plus his phone charger and laptop and charger for school. 

Suddenly, the front door opens, Zim freezes. Dib watches in horror as a large man fills up the door like a giant. 

The older man speaks low, in a language Dib didn't understand. Zim lowers his head, speaking softly in the same language. 

The man starts yelling in a language he doesn't understand. He raises a hand to Zim, grabbing his hair and throwing him against the wall. 

Then, Dib sees something he's never seen from Zim that he's never seen before. Zim is angry. Truly and bloodthirsty angry. Dib stands off to the side, watching in horror as Zim screams at his father. His voice is broken and loud. 

Zim’s father punches Zim’s face. He grabs the boy’s face and slams him against the wall. Zim grunts, biting into his dad’s hand, hard enough for it to bleed at the same time, he kicks his father in the crotch. The man grunts, pulling back his hand, screaming again. His breath reeks of alcohol that Dib could pass out. But he takes this chance and grab’s Zim hand, pushing past his father and running for the car.

”Go, go, go!” he lets go of Zim, rounding the car to throw his stuff into the back seat and hopping into the front. He starts the car, wide eyes watching Zim’s parents exist the house yelling. The father's speaking English, but the rush of adrenaline throbbing in his head makes it too hard to hear. 

Zim throws himself into the passenger seat. “Drive! Drive!” Dib doesn’t wait for Zim to buckle his seatbelt, he backs out and drives out. 

They drive for a good ten minutes, making sure they weren’t being followed. It’s a comfortable silence where they were both still breathing hard from the drop of a rush. 

“I’m sorry,” Zim says, hugging his back close to his chest. He was the first to speak and break the quiet between them. “I took too long.” 

Dib laughs, just letting all the built-up emotions flow out of him like rushing water. “For fuck’s sake, I was the one that didn’t do anything,” he says. “I sat there like a pussy and watched you get the shit beat out of you,” he says. 

“No, no, I know better not to swear...and I did,” he says.

”You said, s _hit_ ,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “That doesn’t deserve a beating.”

Zim says nothing, fading back into the quiet. He closes his eyes. Dib could only guess that the excitement took a lot out of Zim.

Dib pulls up to a fast-food joint. He parks the car, and nudges Zim gently with a hand, careful of the new dark marks forming on his face. He opens his eye, looking at Dib, then the food joint. 

“You meant it?” He asks. 

Dib smiles, shrugging. “Let’s get out crap in the trunk.” He unbuckles himself and jumps out, quickly followed by Zim. 

They place their stuff into the trunk and go inside the fast-food place. They sit down at a booth far in the back, hidden just out a view from windows and far from people. Not many people are out at this time, which is strange since it’s now almost six. 

They both get burgers, Zim’s being plain since he hates most condiments and a genuinely picky eater. He did pick a salad over fries though, but that didn’t stop him from stealing Dib’s fries.

He learned the ketchup was like holy water, keeping Zim, the devil, at bay. Though purposely leaving some for him to take. Zim looked so cute, thinking he won the fries. Dib will just let him think that. 

Zim left for he washroom, which let Din alone to think. He smiles to himself. He never thought that in his wildest dreams, he’d be out and about, by choice, with Zim and enjoying himself. 

Dib also promised ice cream, and he didn’t want to get cheap ice cream for Zim.

They left and got back into the car. Dib took Zim to a nice ice cream parlour and let him get as much as he wanted. 

He laughs softly as Zim eats a heaping portion of Frosty treats, joking that Zim is going to get fat. Zim comes back with a cocky response, boasting about his metabolism and how he exercises religiously, which is more then Dib can say. His metabolism sucked and he didn’t work out at all. 

“You should come with me,” Zim laughed. “Maybe we can boost your endurance when you're fucking me,” he laughed. 

“This is like a date,” Dib jokes, which he immediately regrets says. He notes Zim’s face, blank and blinking. “Oh, no, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—“

Zim steps closer, “if this is a date, you should kiss me.” 

Dib goes pink, unable to breathe. “What?” He whispers. 

Zim presses closer to him. “I told you to kiss me Dibshit,” he whispers. 

Zim closes his eyes, head tilted a little. Dib looks at those soft lips, bitten red and cracked but still so soft to the touch. He leans down, pressing his lips against Zim’s mouth, eyes closed.

It’s a different feeling kissing Zim gently in public. There is some sort of thrill but also comfort in the moment they share. 

He pulls back, Zim’s eyes so dark and teary, his lip in a pout. “Why did you stop?” he asks softly. 

Dib, himself, did not have an answer. He cups Zim’s cheek and brings him closer, kissing him again. He drops his ice cream, grabbing Zim’s hip and pulling him closer. 

He feels Zim’s hand on him, trying to pull his clothes off and yank him closer. He can feel the press of his tongue against his.

Dib unlocks his car. He shoves Zim into the back seat before locking the car. His kisses become slower as his head is filled with a little more air.

“Not here,” he whispers, still kissing Zim slowly. 

Zim grabs onto Dib, kissing him slowly, ” then why are you still going?” he chuckles softly. 

”How about you get yourself ready while I find a park?” he asks, finally stoplights kisses. He's afraid of he starts kissing Zim anymore, he won't be able to stop. 

Zim nods, chuckling close to Dib’s ear, ” I'm still loose from earlier.” Earlier being back in the classroom at school. 

Dib goes red but pushes himself to get up and start driving to the nearest park he could find.

The drive doesn’t take long, thank God. 

Dib could see everything from the rearview mirror. Zim sat facing him, legs spread wide as he finger’s himself loss from earlier that afternoon. 

Dib parks by the most trees at the far end of the parking lot. Not many people are out at this time. It is a school night. 

They should be back at his place, but they aren’t. And Dib is okay with that. 

Dib exits the car and enters from the side door. 

He crawls in and locks the car. Luckily the windows are darkened. 

Zim is lazily positioned on his back with one leg over the headrest and on of the seat. He's playing with his black hair and giggling to himself.   
  
His cheeks are unusually hot and pink. Dib reaches over to place a hand on Zim’s forehead. 

Zim giggles at his cold hand, pressing his palm. ”You’re so fucking cold, ” he slurs softly. 

”Zim are you okay?”

Zim giggles, tilting his head to the side like a cat that thinks it's cute. Zim knew he was cute. 

”Want to know a secret?” he asks, slurred and giggly. 

Dib didn't want to know. ”Sure.” 

Zim sits up. He scoots forward like a little kid and biting his lower lip. He leans close to Dib’s ear and whispers. 

”I took my mom’s stashhhh, ” he slurs with a giggle. 

He lets his head fall into Dib’s shoulder and huge him. He's still giggling and kissing his neck. 

”Stash?” Dib says, holding Zim as if he’ll break. ”You mean drugs?” he asks. 

Zim pulls away, smiling wide and comfortable at Dib. ”Yeah;” he admits. He puts a finger to his lips and shushes, ” don't tell my momma, ” he giggles softly like a kid trying to be sneaky. 

”Zim, this is serious, ” Dib says. ”What drug did you take? When?” 

Zim hums, tilting his head to the side, ”in the bathroom.” 

Dib stiffens. Zim had taken drugs a few minutes ago and now there were hitting. He didn't even know until now. 

”Was it a powder or a pill or a syringe?” He asks. 

Zim hums, bored of the conversation. He leans forward, hands roaming Dib’s chest and kissing his neck. 

Dib pushes him away, “Zim, answer me,” he orders. He keeps a firm grip on Zim’s forearms.

Suddenly, Zim starts to cry. 

“I just want the pain to stop,” he sniffles. “Dib, make the pain go away, ” he begs. Hot tears roll down Zim’s cheeks. 

Dib felt guilty watching Zim cry. Even when crying, Zim is still so pretty. 

”You can't take any more drugs, ” Dib pushes softly. ”They are worse than alcohol and smoking.”

Zim pushes him and snarls, ”you don't know how much shit I have in my life!” he yells. He grabs the sides of his head and pulls at his hair. ”The only thing go about me is my brain—I want to fuck it up! I want to fuck everything up!” he yells. ”I’m so sick of trying to being perfect all the time! They only care about my brain, so if I fuck it up—”

Dib reaches over but Zim shoves him back hard. Zim climbs on top of him, scowling down at Dib like a piece of shot he just stepped into. 

”I came here to fuck. So just fuck me and I'll leave, ” he orders. 

”Zim, I don't want you to leave, ” he begs softly. He places his hands on Zim’s waist, gently rubbing his sides. 

Zim reaches down and unbuckles the uniform belt around Dib’s hips. He unbuttons and unzips his pants. Dib didn't move, afraid Zim may leave is he did. He pulls out Dib’s half-hard dick. 

He pulls out a lube packet from his pocket and rips it open with his teeth. He doesn't look Dib in the eyes as he rubs his cock with a slimy hand. 

”Zim, ” he says, ” please look at me, ” he whispers. 

Zim’s eyes still remain fixated in his cock, stroking it until it's fully hard.

Once satisfied, Zim climbs on top of Dib. He shifts around a bit, finally settling down in a position he liked. 

Dib goes to touch Zim’s face and is slapped away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he growls. Zim lowers himself down on Don’s cock.

He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself. He’s forcing himself. 

“Zim, we don't have to do this, ” he says calmly. He just wants to comfort Zim.   
  
”Yes we do, ” he bites out. ”I won't be thrown away again, ” he whispers and moves his hips. 

Dib didn't say anymore. He didn't want to anger Zim and further. He closes his eyes, just focusing on the feeling of warmth. 

Zim grabs a handful of Dib’s hair and Dib opens his eyes. He's snarling, tears in his eyes. His pretty blue eyes. ”I hate you, ” he whispers cruelly. ”I fucking hate you.” 

Dib smiles, placing his hands on Zim’s slender hips. He doesn't miss the trembling he feels from Zim as he touched him. That's right, Zim hates being touched. 

”I care about you, ” he says softly. 

Zim yanks his head back, and slaps him hard. He's still crying. ”I want to beat the shit out of you, ” he snarls. 

”Go ahead, ” he whispers. 

Zim leans forward into Dib’s shoulder, biting hard into his flesh. He hisses in pain, biting his lower lip to stop the pain from vocalizing itself. 

He beats him with a fist until he's covered in matching bruises and pulls his hair hard until his scalp feels like it's bleeding. 

Dib lets him. Because this will be the last time. Dib will make sure that Zim doesn't feel such sadness again that he feels like he has to take drugs or harm others to feel better. 

At the end of it all, Zim looks like corpus, laying in the back seat with his head on Dib’s lap, letting him stroke his hair and play with his ears and the piercings. 

It's quiet. Peaceful. 

”I don't hate you, ” Zim whispers. He was the first to break the silence. ”I won't do it again.” 

He nods, ” no you won't, ” he says softly. 

”I don't know how to love property, ”he says. ”I’m trying really hard, ” he says. 

”I know you are,” Din says, “I want to know about you more.” 

It’s not Zim’s fault. He’s parents might not a healthy relationship at home or who they treat their kids. Zim can’t be the only one that acts out this way. 

Zim seems uncomfortable, but not from resting his head in Dib’s lap, but because he didn't know what else to say or maybe he does but doesn’t want to say it. Dib wouldn’t force him. 

“Want to know something dumb?” Zim asks.

“Of course.” 

Zim's cheeks are pink and pouty. ”When I was younger, I used to refer to myself in the person, ” he says and Dib laughs. ”I stopped because I was made fun of, ” he says. “I also had a god complex.” 

Yes, he could picture a young Zim acting like he’s a god. It’s strangely cute to image but it was probably annoying.   
  
Dib’s laugher dies down and he smiles. ”I used to think my classmates were all aliens when they didn’t like me. And they all didn’t like me when I tried to prove it.”

It is Zim’s turn to laugh now. 

It’s the opposite from soft and sweet. He’s bellowing out a real laugh that’s broken and loud. 

It does down and Zim turns to look up at Dib with a shy smile. “Dose this mean, we’re...together?” he asks. 

Dib smiles,” unless you don’t want to,” he says softly. God would he do anything to date Zim. 

Zim nods,” I would like to date you, ya piece of shit.” 

Dib laughs and leans over to kiss Zim. It’s awkward but it’s good. 

Zim’s kisses are always good.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> This leaves us on a good, yet vague note, but I don’t thing I’m done with these two yet. 
> 
> Please leave a like and drop a comment in the comments. I hope you are all enjoying this so far.


End file.
